


A tale of a milkshake, grilled cheeses and seduction

by lavande



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Diners, F/F, First Meetings, Ice Cream, no accidental insemination, petra has a knack for ice cream and jane is a waitress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavande/pseuds/lavande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Considering how Petra already knows what she is going to order before even settling into one of the booths, her reaction to Jane is seriously embarrassing."</p><p> </p><p>Petra goes to a diner for ice cream during her lunch break from working at the Marbella. </p><p>Jane is a waitress there and picks up girls by means of grilled cheese.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A tale of a milkshake, grilled cheeses and seduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU, but I think I've covered most of what's canon divergent in the story.  
> There is no accidental insemination though.  
> I'm not fully caught up with the show, but I think we'd like something cute and happy right now, huh?
> 
> Have a good read! I'm also on [tumblr](http://www.oscarwildx.tumblr.com)

Petra is addicted to ice cream.

It isn’t even a weird food quirk that started with her pregnancy, like she might tell someone if they asked.  
It’s been like this for years.

Maybe her body is trying to compensate for never getting ice cream in her childhood, but whatever it is, these days she isn’t able to get through a stressful week at the Marbella without eating a couple of pieces of ice cream confectionery on the sly in her office.  
This is simply a preventive measure so she doesn’t end up shamefully digging into a tub of Ben & Jerry’s (which she doesn’t even like that much, anyway) at three in the morning.

Before and during their marriage, it hadn’t been that hard to keep her habit, which was “obviously unattractive to potential husband, Natalia”, as her mother inculcated her with time and time again, from her now freshly divorced ex-husband Rafael.

When they had been together, he had usually either been nursing a drink himself (and therefore not really been in a position to pay any mind to what went into Petra’s mouth) or, since they lived in the always-sunny Miami and pretty much right next to the beach, hadn’t even considered that there was anything odd about a waffle cone in his wife’s hand.

Now, Petra knows, he doesn’t care what she is doing.

He has a right not to care, as well as she would: after Petra’s miscarriage, they missed their time slot for having a child when Rafael got sick.  
Finally, they were too exhausted and scarred by each of their traumata to try and fix their visibly failing marriage.  
They messed up, even though or maybe because the presence of an expiration date on their relationship had been as clear as day to both of them.

It didn’t surprise her to notice Magda’s snarl when she found out that Petra planned to leave the marriage with a man that didn’t make her happy.  
She drew up several elaborated plans on how Petra could tie Rafael to her side for longer to milk this marriage for all its worth.

Most of them were simply illegal, and frankly, Petra was tired.  
At 30 years old, nobody needed their mother’s consent to divorce someone, not even Petra Solano.

She still thinks a lot about her former relationships and sometimes, in the very quiet moments, she wonders if she would have gotten into any of them without Magda or poverty or this constant, cutting need for validation.

She isn’t sure and it hurts to ponder it for too long.

Anyway, the settlement she got isn’t awful and Rafael has never been cruel, so even though she has a lot less power at the hotel, Petra is left with some shares of the Marbella and a decent amount of money in her account.

With the awkwardness between them, Rafael would obviously rather have her gone today than tomorrow, it’s only his morals and her good work ethic keeping her here.  
She’s never been lazy, never quite felt like she was able to afford that, but she has to work a bit harder than before now.  
Which is why she is just that bit more stressed, too, these days.

This leads to her craving ice cream. Often.   
And of course, there’s no freezer in her office. She could order room service, except she’s almost certain that with how often she would have to rely on it, rumours would definitely spread among the staff and Petra would like to avoid that at all costs.  
Her being a private person hasn’t changed.

She considers this to be an unfortunate development in the face of a minor panic attack that has probably been building up for a week or so, and when her hands aren’t shaking anymore like they used to in the coldest of her Czech winters, she types a search for places to get ice cream at in her immediate vicinity into google.

Petra fixes her destroyed make-up in a matter of minutes so it’s not long before the clacking of her heels is audible as she traverses the Marbella’s lobby.

Once outside, she lets herself be led across a couple of streets to a diner a bit further from the beach by her phone’s GPS.  
The place looks retro in a hipstery way, neon lights, black and white tiles, red stools, turquoise tables, and Petra is fairly sure it hasn’t been here for long, although she can’t tell for sure since she doesn’t exactly constantly stroll around the city.

It seems to be aimed at tourists, but Petra is desperate and exhausted and when she sees the milkshake’s price, she doesn’t even have to think _once_ before deciding on it.

Considering how Petra already knows what she is going to order before even settling into one of the booths, her reaction to Jane is seriously embarrassing.

Jane, the quirky, diligent waitress currently awaiting her order, is gorgeous.

Glowing.

Probably literally emitting light, if the way Petra is momentarily stunned at the sight of her is anything to go by.

“I’m sorry, did you hear me when I asked for your order? Not to be rude, obviously, if you still need time I can come back in a minute of course. Just tell me whenever you’re ready!”, the girl breaks the silence that has wrapped itself around the two of them.  
The fact that Petra has literally been staring at the place on Jane’s boob where her name is stitched into her tight polo shirt since the other woman first approached her somehow doesn’t make her more proud of the way this interaction has gone so far. 

Can this still be blamed on low blood sugar or is she having a stroke?

Petra honestly isn’t 100% convinced that her brain is intact until she manages to clear her throat and utter “Ah, yes. Thank you. I’d like a - vanilla milkshake, please.” 

Really the soul of suavity, Solano, she thinks.

Only the way she says the sentence is actually worse than the content: her voice is about two octaves deeper than it usually is because she hasn’t used it since having to stifle her sobs during her breakdown earlier and she says everything so quickly, the words start to mash together and break apart at the wrong places.  
It’s almost like all her efforts to learn perfect English were wasted in this moment.

While Petra promptly expects to be nursing her milkshake in quiet mortification for the rest of her time here, Jane doesn’t seem to mind her less than stellar social performance.

She smiles at her almost, yes, there isn’t a better word for it, Petra thinks, _flirtatiously_ , when she replies “Cool and sweet vanilla milkshake coming right up! Will that be it? If you want anything else, just call my name and I’ll come. It’s … yeah, Jane. It’s on the shirt.”  
Petra actually smiles at that.  
To her, Jane’s fumble with words at the end has made it pretty clear that she can’t have been the only one whose interest got piqued by the other.

By the time Jane returns with her milkshake, Petra has nervously fixed her dress’s décolleté six times, but she also has a plan to seduce her waitress.

And looking great is part of that.

Putting the straw into her mouth for a first taste and making direct eye contact with the woman is too, apparently.  
Then she decides on simply holding Jane’s gaze for a bit as she swallows and states “This is very good. Thank you, Jane.”  
She's not even lying.

Jane actually blushes slightly, but they are ripped out of their moment by a dude shouting at her from the other end of the diner.  
“Ay, lady! Today, please! With this service I could go anywhere because it couldn’t be worse!”, he sneers.

With an apologetic hand gesture to Petra, she hurries to the customer.  
The blonde woman grinds her teeth together at the sudden interruption, but continues to sip her milkshake, watching Jane intently.

Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the hotel or Rafael if she didn’t show up there again until later today, so she might as well try to get Jane’s number before she leaves.

Minutes later, Jane is still busy clearing tables and apologizing profusely for things she probably hasn’t even any influence on.  
Petra has started doodling on a napkin, and before she realizes it, she’s writing down numbers, calculating costs, working.  
Her pen clinks against the plastic surface of the table when she becomes aware of herself. 

She smirks at the sight of Jane’s ever-polite smile flashed at a customer who is trying to bring their three chihuahua dogs into the diner.

As a businesswoman, she appreciates people who know the importance of The Customer is Always Right, even when The Customer is Dead Wrong and About To Violate Multiple Health Regulations.

Only when the place has pretty much emptied (as well as her milkshake glass, save for a puddle of vanilla aroma and corn syrup), Petra calls for Jane again.

“I’m sorry for not checking up on you before, I think this is the busiest we’ve ever been.”, Jane sighs, still managing to keep a friendly face although her exhaustion is clear as day to Petra.  

“Well, maybe my presence is good luck, huh?”, Petra jokes and it comes out slightly awkward - she’s not really used to being jokey -, but Jane laughs anyway and it actually seems sincere.

“I bet. Well, can I get you anything else? You know what, I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long, let me invite you to one of our specialties. We make a great grilled cheese, though I have to inform you it isn’t quite as mind-blowing as mine.” Jane winks at her and Petra’s heart flutters for a second.

“Ah, only if you sit down with me and let me buy you one as well. Do you have any time at the moment, Jane?”

“Can’t say no to an offer like that. Wait a second, I’m just going to ask if I can take my break right now.” After vanishing in the back for a short minute, Jane reappears, showing Petra a victorious thumbs-up.  
“I’m yours for the next 30 minutes, … what is your name actually?” 

“I’m Petra. Nice to meet you, Jane.”

And when Jane compliments her name after that, she can’t help but beam at her. It’s weirdly sappy considering that she barely knows the other woman, but she can’t remember anyone else ever telling her that they liked the way her name sounded before.  
She can only think of Magda, who always stresses that “Petra” is ugly, but fitting, since nobody will believe that someone would voluntarily choose to be named that.

“I’m not really into cheese usually.” Petra states after she’s swallowed a bite of the grilled cheese sandwich in front of her, failing to follow up with something until it has already sounded rude.

The stiff smile she manages at this realization does little to remove the frown from her lunchpartner’s face.

For a millisecond she’s afraid that her off-putting ways have scared yet another likely nice person out of her life, but she tries to fix it with something sort of resembling a compliment.

“I mean, this one is surprisingly alright.” This whole talking to a cute girl-ordeal is harder than she thought and Petra is dizzy.

Whenever she has tried to get men to want her, she’s never actually cared about them.    
On her quest for a husband, fueled by her mother’s nagging, she had liked to imagine herself as a mysterious actress, icy and unattainable and in turn all the more desirable to them.  
But this? Isn’t Petra’s territory. At all.

She attempts to give Jane a friendly look, rather feebly, judging by her asking: “O geez, is there something on my face?” and hurriedly touching her cheeks to find the nonexistent stain.

“Um, no - I was … well, I was aiming for a nice expression.” And Petra adds, in a joking manner “Don’t tell anyone.” 

“Is there a reputation at stake here, Elsa?”, Jane laughs.  
She gives Petra a ridiculous wiggle of her eyebrows. Which are also perfectly shaped, apparently.  
Just like Jane’s face in general, Petra muses.

“Elsa?”, she accompanies with a purposefully quizzing stare which she knows could be categorized as adorable on someone else.

“The queen with the ice powers, you know. From Frozen. She’s the blonde.”

Petra furrows her brows. “Pff, who would get that reference? No-one except for you, certainly.”

At hearing this, Jane cracks up so heartily, her whole body is shaking with it. Frankly, it’s a little insulting in Petra’s opinion, but it’s also very endearing. 

Suddenly, Petra feels the inexplicable urge to sit at a living room table at night and play poker with Jane. Not even for money, just for the good company.

“It’s obscure!”, she defends herself. “I don’t know anyone who’s seen that.”

Tragically, this doesn’t do anything to make Jane take her more seriously.   
In fact, the waitress exclaims, mock-offended, “Honestly, Petra, I’m not 100% sure I can associate any longer with someone who hasn’t seen the Disney movie of this decade. Of course, I might be convinced to finish eating with you if you agree to let me introduce you to Frozen soon.”

Oh, Petra can play this game, too.  
She sighs exaggeratedly.  
Pairs that up with the pointed placement of her folded hands on the table.

“If you must. But, obviously, your taste in food is very unlike mine. I’ll cook. You bring the movie. Maybe I’ll survive it as long as there is ice cream.”

“Alright. Hey, we’ve got a date, Petra.”

Petra can’t even congratulate herself on her excellent flirting strategy, she’s so busy smiling giddily at Jane. This _was_ easier than she feared for a moment there.

 

Plus, she’s found a great place to get her milkshakes in the future.


End file.
